[Frog] Chapter 381: A Desire for Rest

"I really thought I could make him stay for a meal."

Thor gave her a disgusted look. "How am I even related to you?"

Then he turned to Angela.

Unlike Hela, he had never even known of Angela’s existence.

"You should feel honored, Thor," Hela smirked. "Among the three of us Celestials, you're the weakest—which means you don’t get a say in anything. Understood?"

---

Back on Earth, Alan stood still, gazing up at the sky, his expression filled with concern.

Of course, he knew he wouldn’t be able to see anything just by looking.

Beside him, Wanda tightened her grip on his arm, leaning against him as she, too, raised her gaze to the heavens.

She had never been alone with Alan like this before.

"Alan, where are we heading next?"

She was ready—ready to follow him wherever he went.

Traveling between Earth, the Moon, and Asgard all in one day had left her in awe. Being with Emperor felt like stepping into an endless series of impossible moments.

Even with her witch’s powers, she still couldn’t read Alan’s thoughts.

And now… she finally understood why Hela was so obsessed with him.

A man shrouded in mystery—who wouldn’t want to stay by his side, to get closer, to understand him?

"For now, let’s head home. I think I could actually use some rest."

Alan took a deep breath.

For the first time in a long while, he felt mentally exhausted.

One event after another kept piling up, merging into a relentless storm.

Hela provoking Thanos might temporarily lower the chances of him focusing on Earth…

But it was still something to be wary of.

If things escalated suddenly, they might not have enough time to react.

Alan desperately needed a break—to catch his breath.

---

But the moment they reached his house, something felt off.

There was an… awkward atmosphere hanging over the place, like an invisible tension blanketing his home.

"Alan, look up!" Wanda suddenly lifted her head.

Even though the spaceship above them was cloaked, it was impossible to miss the massive shadow it cast.

A huge ship was hovering right over their house.

"No wonder it felt like the sun wasn’t reaching us," Alan muttered, glancing at the extravagant golden exterior of the vessel.

That gaudy design…

It could only belong to one person.

Alan marched forward. Whoever—or whatever—was inside, he would find out soon enough.

As he approached the door, it swung open on its own.

Gwen had used her webbing to let them in.

"Emper—… Alan, the Sovereign have arrived," Nebula reported.

She had been about to address him as Emperor but quickly corrected herself.

They were on Earth—she remembered that Alan preferred to keep a low profile here.

At the mention of the Sovereign, Alan immediately pressed his belt, activating his armor.

And then he sighed.

"All I wanted was a simple break. Why does it always have to be something?"

"They’re in the courtyard," Nebula continued, a strange look on her face.

"And… they arrived in a very… unusual way."

Even she struggled to describe it.

It was odd—the Sovereign never left their homeworld.

And yet, here they were—on Earth—and they hadn’t even brought their usual fighter ships.

Still, Star-Lord and the others remained on high alert, ready to react at a moment’s notice.

If these golden-skinned aliens suddenly decided to attack, they weren’t about to let them blow up Alan’s house.

"Unusual?" Alan raised an eyebrow. "When have they ever been normal?"

But when he actually saw them—

He was left completely speechless.

The High Priestess of the Sovereign, Ayesha, was seated on a throne seemingly forged from solid gold.

Beneath her feet was a luxurious blue carpet—

A Sovereign-manufactured carpet, rolled out from the spaceship all the way to the house.

She had literally walked down in the most excessively regal manner possible.

Gamora, knowing Rocket’s sharp tongue, made sure to keep him at a safe distance.

The last thing they needed was him insulting this absurdly proud race and making things worse.

...